Chapter Text
If Erik had thought that Peter was talkative before, it was nothing compared to how he was now that he couldn’t take out his energy with running. His mouth seemed to be able to move as quickly as his feet, and he could manage to make an entire conversation about pretty much any topic, whether it was worth the words or not.
“So, you think you’ll stay for the whole meal? I mean, I know you don’t like people, but they probably won’t talk to you too much if you don’t want them to. One glare from you and they’ll be silent for weeks!” Peter exclaimed, and Erik cracked half a smile at that.
“I promised the Professor that I would stay through the duration of the meal,” he replied. Charles had decided that he would stay at the meal for as long as Erik did. That way if Erik wanted him to stay for the whole time, he would be forced to as well.
“Why would the professor care if you stayed the whole time?” Peter asked, and it was then that Erik realized what he’d said. They hadn’t told any of the students that the professor would be at dinner that night. It was meant to be a surprise.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Peter began when Erik opened his mouth to try to come up with some sort of excuse. “Is the professor going to be at dinner?” Peter asked excitedly. Erik nodded.
“Seriously? How are you manage to get him to do that?” he demanded. “The professor never goes anywhere!”
“I told him I’d go as long as he did as well,” Erik said simply, and Peter stared at him with a look of awe on his face.
“This is going to be one HELL of a dinner. You, the professor, Lisa’s spaghetti and meatballs… I don’t think this night could get any crazier if the cops showed up! Do the other’s know yet?”
“No,” Erik said with a shake of his head. “You’re not supposed to know either, so don’t go telling them,” he warned, and Peter mimed zipping his lips just as Jean walked into the room.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said in lieu of a greeting. “Lisa told me to let you know to be in the dining hall in ten minutes.” She glanced at Erik as well, and he got the feeling that she already knew that he was expected at the meal as well.
~
Charles hadn’t really given much thought to what it would feel like to fly, but levitating a few feet above the stairs in a metal wheelchair was not it.
“Are you sure this is the best idea?” Charles asked, gripping the armrests of the chair as it tipped slightly.
“Charles, you’ve seen me lift a submarine out of the ocean. Do you really think I can’t handle one wheelchair?” Erik demanded. Charles huffed, but let the point drop as Erik continued to levitate his chair down the stairs and towards the dining room.
“It’s going to be fine,” Charles said. Whether it was for himself or for Erik, the metal bender wasn’t sure.
“Yes it will,” he agrees. Erik slowly lowered the chair to the ground once they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“You should really get an elevator,” Erik noted.
“Why? I have you, don’t I?” Charles pointed out, looking sidelong at the other man who only huffed in response and tried very hard not to smile. He almost succeeded. Their banter faltered when they reached the doors to the dining hall.
“We’re here,” Erik stated.
“Indeed we are,” Charles agreed, making no move to enter.
“Is everyone already inside?” Erik asked. He wasn’t sure how he felt about making a dramatic entrance by being the last ones there, but he certainly didn’t want to be the first either.
“Just a few are seated,” Charles said, reaching out with his mind to check. “Peter and Jean are there along with some of the younger children, Scott, and Logan.” Erik nodded.
“Well it will only get worse the longer we wait,” he pointed out, and Charles nodded in agreement.
“Shall we?”
~
Peter was talking animatedly with Jean when suddenly she froze, looking at something over his shoulder before whispering a quick, ‘act surprised!’. Peter turned around to see what she was looking at and felt his eyes go wide. He had known that Erik and the professor were going to be coming to dinner that night, but somehow hearing about it was different than actually seeing it happen.
Charles looked quite nervous and Peter imagined that Erik was as well, though he was just glowering like he usually did.
“Dude, close your mouth,” Scott whispered, and Peter somehow managed to unlock his jaw from where it was hanging open.
“Is that… the professor?” someone whispered.
“Who else could it be?” another responded.
“Why do you think he’s in a wheelchair-”
“Is he friends with Magneto-?”
“I wonder why he’s here, he’s never seen-”
Charles sat at the table by Logan, and, when she came out, Lisa. Erik made his way over to where Peter and Jean were and sat down silently. More and more people began to show up, and the whispers would start anew with every wave. They all seemed to come to the same conclusion- Professor X and Magneto were sitting at their dinner table.
“Like, I get that you told me you were coming, but for some reason I still just can’ comprehend it,” Peter said finally. Erik grunted in agreement.
“I’m beginning to regret it,” he admitted.
“No one regrets Lisa’s spaghetti and meatballs,” Peter argued.
“They really are the best,” Scott agreed as the food was passed in their direction.
“How does she make this much?” Erik asked.
“Well the kitchen staff helps her… she just handles the sauce and spices and stuff,” Peter explained. Erik nodded and took a tentative bite. He hated admitting that anything Lisa Dorian created was good, but it was delicious. He looked up and saw Lisa looking at him with a smug expression.
The meal seemed to be going normally, though there were plenty of people continuously glancing at Charles and Erik. The professor seemed to be doing quite well at ignoring the looks and was talking softly with Raven about something. Erik wondered what they were talking about.
“So, why did you decide to come?” Peter asked suddenly. This was it, Erik thought, hands clenching in his lap. The perfect opportunity to tell him the truth. He glanced up quickly and caught Jean staring at him with a look that said ‘you tell him, or I will’.
“I, uh, I actually have to talk to you about something,” he Erik said slowly. He noticed that the attention of both Scott, and the younger children sitting near them seemed to have suddenly drifted away from him and Peter, and Erik had no doubt that it was Jean’s doing.
“What’s up?” Peter asked, seemingly unaware of Erik’s turmoil.
“You lived with your mother, correct?” Erik asked, deciding it would be good to ease into the discussion.
“Yup, just me and Mom,” Peter agreed.
“Did she ever talk about your father? Did you know him?” Erik asked. It was entirely possible that Peter’s mother had told the boy that he was fathered by someone else once she realized who Erik really was. No one should have to carry the burden of being related to someone that the government had labeled a terrorist.
“No,” Peter said after a moment's thought, “she just said that she hadn’t known him well. Once I was old enough to know what a one night stand was she explained it to me,” he said.
“He was a mutant,” Erik said. “You inherited your genes from him.” Peter perked up at this.
“You knew him?” he asked, and Erik had to force his breathing to remain even. It was a losing battle.
“I am him.” Peter stared at him and blinked.
“You’re- wait, what?” he asked.
“I didn’t know that she was pregnant, I would have found you earlier if I’d known-” Erik began.
“Wait, wait, wait, back it up to the part where you’re my fricken father? What? Did you know that this whole time? Did my MOM know that this whole time? What about the professor, does he know? Did he bring me here so that you wouldn’t attack the school when you two were still feuding?” Peter asked, his words stringing together as he stumbled over question after question. Erik was incredibly grateful to Jean for keeping everybody’s minds distracted from them
“The professor didn’t know who you were when he took you in, and even if he did it, you wouldn’t just be there for security,” Erik said. “I figured it out after our first few meetings. The name Maximoff sounded familiar, I just couldn’t remember from where. When you said your mom knew someone who could bend metal, it all came back to me,” he answered next.
“So my mom did know,” Peter clarified, and Erik nodded. “And she didn’t tell me?” he looked crestfallen. Erik had had a feeling that this was coming, but it still hurt.
“Well, I imagine she didn’t want you to have to live with the fact that you’re related to a terrorist-”
“I’m related to a word-class criminal and she didn’t fricken tell me? We could have pulled off so many heists!” Peter complained. “You can move metal, do you know how many TVs we could have stolen? IT would have been awesome! Damn it, Mom, you ruined my childhood!”
Erik just stared.
“That went surprisingly well,” Charles’ voice resonated in his mind, and Erik realized that Jean most-likely was unable to keep Charles’ mind distracted with whatever trick she’d used on the others.
“You heard us?” Erik thought back, looking across the table to where Charles was seemingly still in deep conversation with Raven and Alex.
“Every word,” Charles laughed back in his mind.
“And it seems your night is going fine,” Erik thought back as Peter continued to list off all the wasted opportunities. Erik had to admit, making a levitating, steel, bunker, and flying around the neighborhood pretending to be aliens did sound quite entertaining.
“It is… not as bad as it could have been,” he admitted. “I’ll hate to have to ruin the atmosphere, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to discuss what’s been happening. Everyone has a lot of questions,” he added, mental voice sombering. Erik knew he was right, but hated that fact all the same. Why couldn’t they have one goddamn evening? He shook his head and turned his attention back to Peter. For now, they were safe, and Erik supposed he could be content with that.